


Cookies and Tea

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Food, Friendship, Gen, Post Episode: s04e08-09 Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-14
Updated: 2008-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The important things get passed on--though perhaps not in the way we think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies and Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 4 x 09, "Forest of the Dead."

Of all the astounding sights The Doctor had witnessed in his life--and he'd seen too many to count--he'd never, ever expected to see Donna Noble, her hair and clothes generously dusted with something white and powdery, in the kitchen of his TARDIS.

He stopped, his jaw dropping in utter shock at the sight. "Good heavens! Donna! What--what is THAT all down your front?"

"What does it look like?" she snapped, brushing at her blouse. "It's flour! And cornstarch! And icing sugar!"

His eyes widened. It was so ludicrous--Donna, looking like a living jelly doughnut (and oh, wouldn't he face her wrath if he ever told her _that_)--that his surprise gave way to uncontrollable amusement, and he laughed out loud.

"Oh, shut up! Not one word from you!"

The Doctor laughed even louder.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had an apron! Of all the clothing and costumes in your wardrobe room, you have no proper aprons!"

He gawked, gasping between peals of laughter. "Why should I? Never needed one on the TARDIS before. Never expected you of anybody to--to--" He clutched at the door jamb for support and tried to suppress his mirth, to no avail.

"Well!" Donna put her hands on her hips and glared. "The moment we land somewhere with decent shops, you are buying a dozen of them."

He stopped laughing, but still kept his grin. "I thought you didn't cook."

"I don't!" Donna glanced back at a bowl of dough. "I'm rubbish in the kitchen. But sometimes I do like to make cookies."

He grew thoughtful, hearing the sudden--something in her voice. Suddenly he wondered what was bothering her, that she'd take to the kitchen. He had an idea, of course, but it would come in its own time. Instead, he asked, "So what are you making?"

"Shortbread puffs. Very simple, just butter, sugar and flour mainly." She turned back to the sideboard.

The Doctor sauntered over to stand beside her, studying the dough intently. He stuck a finger in, scooped out a generous dollop, and stuck it in his mouth.

"Oh, this is good!" he said through a mouthful of stickiness. "This is very, very good."

He went to scrape another fingerful, but Donna slapped his hand.

"Oy! Away from there! It's not even cooked yet!"

He pulled up a chair beside Donna and sat backwards, watching as Donna used two teaspoons to scoop up small wads of dough from the bowl. She scraped the makeshift balls onto baking sheets, a dozen at a time. She then pressed candied fruit pieces into the centres.

His hand crept over to steal one of them, but he recoiled and yelped in pain when she whacked him on the knuckles with a spoon.

"OWWW! What was that for?"

"You really are a pest in the kitchen, aren't you?"

She lifted the trays over the Doctor's head and opened the oven door. "You may even get one later, if you behave."

He grinned saucily, but she didn't see it because she was sliding the trays inside. She closed the oven door, straightened and punched in the time on the clock timer. She then leaned back against the sideboard, her hands clasped in front of her. She met his inquiring gaze.

"Now, Donna, what I don't understand, is: if you don't cook, why are you making cookies?"

She sighed, grabbed a dish towel and twisted it in her hands, deep in thought. "My Gran would make them when I came home after a dreadful day at school," she started after a minute. "She could whip them up in minutes. Never looked at a book, the recipes were all in her head. She didn't even measure, just poured in the ingredients willy-nilly, and they always turned out perfect."

He listened quietly, feeling her underlying wistfulness.

"As she mixed the dough she'd tell me stories about the War when Granddad was in France. She'd save up weeks' worth of butter and egg rations. Then one day she'd go mad with baking. Dozens of cookies. Sugar and shortbread and pinwheels and fruit drops. And she'd send them all off to Granddad. He always wrote back that they weren't more than crumbs by the time he got the box, but oh, how all the boys at the front loved them.

"Near the end of her life, she started writing them down on index cards. And she gave them to me, saying 'wouldn't it be lovely if I taught my children and grandchildren her recipes?'"

At that she looked away and worried at her lower lip, blinking rapidly. "Don't know if that will happen now."

The Doctor nodded to himself. Ah. They'd both been out of sorts since returning from the Library. She'd told him some of what had happened while she'd been saved in the virtual reality of CAL; but he'd always thought she'd left something out. He reached out and touched her arm. "I'm sorry."

She looked up to meet his gaze and smiled sadly. "Oh, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I'm always all right. Just like you."

He gently squeezed her hand. They listened to the background hum of the TARDIS, both lost in their thoughts and the buttery aroma of baking shortbread, until the oven buzzer rang a few minutes later.

"Well, they're done," she said with forced cheer. "Out of the way now." The Doctor stood and obediently moved to the far side of the kitchen, scraping the chair along the floor.

She grabbed a second dish towel and folded them both into pads. "You are also buying proper oven mittens along with those aprons," she scolded. "Really! I'm surprised your hands aren't burnt to crisps!"

The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels as Donna bent down to pull the trays out of the oven. Over her shoulder, he saw the cookies, pale cream and puffed up around the fruit, as she set the trays back on the sideboard to cool.

"Oh, those look fantastic," he said softly. "I bet they just melt in your mouth."

Donna turned her head towards him with a bright, grateful smile. "Right then! Make a pot, would you, and we'll have some with our tea."

~~~~~

 

Back at the Library, back in CAL, River Song looked at the three children clamoring around the table. "All right, all right! I'll give it a go." Ella, Joshua and Charlotte cheered while she looked round the kitchen. "But I've never made cookies before. Never had the time. If only I had some recipes."

"I know some!" Charlotte piped up gaily. "I know lots!"

"Do you?"

"Oh yes, mum. They're fabulously delicious. Donna Noble gave them to me."

**Author's Note:**

> And what's a cookie!fic without a recipe to go with? Here's the recipe mentioned in the story.
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> **Puff Shortbread**  
> 1 cup (250 mL) butter at room temperature  
> 1 cup (250 mL) all-purpose flour  
> ½ cup (125 mL) cornstarch  
> ½ cup (125 mL) icing sugar  
> candied fruit or nut pieces (optional)
> 
> Mix all ingredients with a pastry cutter until small.
> 
> Using an electric mixer (not portable!), beat on medium until the dough starts to come together.
> 
> Switch to high speed and beat until light and fluffy.
> 
> Drop by spoonful onto a lightly greased baking sheet.
> 
> If desired, press nuts or candied fruit into the centre of the dough.
> 
> Bake at 350 C (180 F) for about 20 minutes.
> 
> Makes about 3 dozen.


End file.
